Dead Writers

Dead Writers opens with heliotrope's soft, almond-tinged sweetness brushed against black tea's dry, leafy grip—literary and introspective from the first breath. Tobacco and clove emerge in the heart, warming the composition into something smoky and spiced, a study desk at dusk. Vetiver grounds it all, earthy and rooted, while natural musk and vanilla weave through the base with subtle intimacy, leaving behind the ghost of old paper and worn leather. Contemplative without melancholy.